That was a thought that came across my mind the other day while I was stuck in Atlanta traffic. Truth be told, it was really on the outskirts of Atlanta on Interstate 75 where road construction seems to be ongoing no matter time of year or time of day.

Back to the shoplifter, dog question.

While sitting in traffic, I noticed these little mechanical windmill type contraptions along the construction zone, and upon further examination I glanced down and there was a dog in the median doing his business.

My first thought was, “How did he get there?” I originally thought about the chicken analogy and told myself he was just “trying to get to the other side,”

My second thought was he looking around and wondering if anyone can see him doing his business — I’m sure everyone knows that looking around thing dogs do when doing their business.

Then, I wondered what was going through the dog’s head and what was he feeling at that one moment … traffic was backed up for miles and everyone had to see this dog. But, if you are going to do your business in the median of a major interstate … you get my point … Atlanta traffic can be brutal.

Then, BAM! I started to wonder, “I’ve seen that look on shoplifters … right before they shoplift.”

Another question I asked myself just this morning after listening to political commentators questioning whether some of our elected official in the House and Senate are on the fence, while others were wondering how to turn a no vote … yep, you guessed it … they wondered how to get them on this fence.

That doesn’t sound comfortable at all. And, why would anyone want to be on “the fence?” But, of course we are talking about politicians … maybe that explains why they are a bunch of stiff shirts.

I wonder if Vlad the Impaler had problems getting people up on stakes? Another thought for another time.

And, all the political talk about the Russians “meddling” in our elections. I think our politicians are just jealous we aren’t meddling … I remember in the Olympic games in Rio last year that everyone was trying to lock out the Russian athletes … but failed. Some of them went on to “medal,” yet, no one made a big deal of that!

I think that kind of stuff sends mixed messages … but, maybe only in my mind.

Now, as Salt-N-Pepa sang in their 1990 release, “Let’s Talk About Sex” baby.

Yes, I went there. In fact I go there every day insofar as being able to come up with random song lyrics for everything.

I had a co-worker tell me once that I had a “song for every occasion … ” and I do, but is that a bad thing?

And, not only do I have a song for every occasion, I can make any song or words … all about sex.

To me, songs and sex go together … no matter the lyrics. Go ahead, give it a try … make up your own sex lyrics to any song.

Before long, you’ll be laughing at what you’ve come up with … laughing at yourself. Life is all about laughter.

Just to prove my point … look at these lyrics from the 1975 release from The Who, “Squeezebox.” If you are wondering, the song is about an accordion, or is it?

The opening lyrics … “Mama’s got a squeeze box, She wears on her chest, And when Daddy comes home, He never gets no rest … ,” go listen to it. Even today’s critics admit the song is full of sexual innuendo.

And no, I am not a dirty old man … but, I am in training. I’ve totally got too much time on my hands.

With that said, I will bid adieu with the words of a song I remember from watching TV as a young child … “Happy trails to you, until we meet again … .”

Wait! I see where you are going with the “Happy Trails” lyrics … I am referring to the Dale Evans and Roy Rogers song and not … well, you know. Are you in training, as well?

When you can’t see the light, find a way to shine through laughter … or sex.

About Me

Hope you enjoy reading my blog and thank you for stopping by. I am a retired photojournalist, but not tired enough to ever stop writing about different subjects, primarily about the process we call life. I will, from time to time, branch out into other things ... so stay tuned ... you never know what is going to come out of my mouth, in this case keystrokes.

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No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the original author and photographer, John W. Peeler.